(for a prompt with Shaan) There’s a note dropped in a gutter, choked on sludge that pours over and over it again. It said “remember inhaler” and someone’s freezing, throat crumpling as I take the note in my hands and squeeze it and he remembers, and I remember.
I. You rose above me like the walls of a room, denim legs and a bare chest and curved down to meet me. I touched you and you shuddered in the light of the television. I asked what was wrong, and you shook your head. “That felt so good” and when you said it I remembered how young we were, you small even in your height and me shivering under blankets. We huddled together for help as we let...